Catharsis
by amuseme1
Summary: Giles and Anya work some things out.
1. Catharsis, 1

**Title**: ?? Untitled.  If you have any ideas, lemme know.

**Disclaimer**:  Belongs to JW and ME and whoever pays them.  Not mine, not mine, not mine.

**Author's Note**:  Picks up a day after the events of "Grave."

**Rating**: PG-13; may become dirtier

Xander caressed the wood; felt the wormholes, the knots, ran his fingertips over the grain.  It was smooth and soft.  Silken almost.  Sometimes, in the right light it shimmered and shone, he could almost believe that it breathed, that it would move….almost.  

He backed away, wiping the mineral oil off his hands from his most recent application.  It was lovely. Not as lovely as she was, but he was proud of it.  All her features were there, the sweep of her neck, the curve of her waist, the slope of her calf, the gentle hollow of her cheek…but it wasn't her.  It wasn't Anya.  It just looked like her.  A study of her in wood.

**************************************

Anya looked around the Magic Box and could barely breathe.  Her knees suddenly quivered and she collapsed on the step.  She felt something wet on her hand and realized she was crying…again.  It was all such a mess.  Not only the store, which had been completely wrecked in the battle with Willow, but her life, her emotions, her very existence.  She didn't know where she belonged anymore, or what to do.  

When D'Hofferan offered to take her back into the fold it seemed like the logical, sensible thing at the time…wreak a little vengeance, feel better.  Instead, she was beginning to realize that it was the worst decision she had ever made.  She had lost her friends—true, they may have only been an extension of her relationship with Xander, but upon reflection, they seemed to care about her, something she had missed in previous assessments.  She had lost her life. She already longed for the sound of the ring of the register when she punched the "Total" key, the jingle of change, the rustle of the paper money, the comfort and tingle in the tallying of numbers.  And her heart just wasn't in the payback business anymore.  She no longer cared about other women's problems and raining down fire and wild dogs on their unfaithful men.  She couldn't even bring herself to want retribution on Xander.  So here she sat, crying.

There was a dull clanking as the door to the Magic Box opened and closed.  

************************************

"Bloody, hell.  This is quite the disaster area."  Anya raised her head and stared at Rupert Giles as he wandered through the decimated shop.

He was still sans glasses, and sporting blue jeans and a gray long-sleeved polo.  She studied him as he walked.  She had really missed him.  She realized that yesterday when she saw his form in the doorway, and it hit her fiercely as she cradled his head in her lap when she thought he was dying.   The way he got under her skin every time he mentioned cataloguing inventory or insisted that she review a shipping manifest for the third time.  And all that knowledge, accompanied by that snobbish, English attitude, those quick insults and sharp jabs and barbs they'd toss at each other, never really intending pain, just a release of irritation.  She had thought she'd be glad when he was gone, be her own boss, be accountable to no one.  Instead she found herself rather lost and lonely at work.  It wasn't the same comforting, pleasurable place to be.

"Yes, well, you helped to cause most of it."  Anya spoke once he returned to her general area.

With thinly disguised irritation, Giles questioned, "What precisely do you mean by that?"  

Anya huffed, "You with your super magic powers, coming in here having a duel and shooting up stuff with your lights and wizardry."

"I seem to recall that it was necessary at the time.  Willow?  On overdrive?"  He raised his brows at her.

Anya crossed her arms and harrumphed.  "You're right, I just…I just…" she trailed off as the tears began to flow again.

Giles looked at her, so small and in obvious pain. "You silly girl."  He sat down next to her and drew her into his arms.  

Feeling his warmth and strong arms, Anya turned into him, clutched his shirt and began crying in earnest.  Great heaving sobs, accompanied by sniffs and occasional face rubs into his chest.  Giles sat silently and caressed her back with slow smooth strokes until he felt her body-racking sobs begin to calm and finally cease.  When her breathing had returned to somewhat normal, punctuated by small hitches, Giles gently eased her away.  Catching her chin and raising it up he looked into her eyes and asked, "Now what was all that about?"

"Nothing is right anymore. It's all gone horribly wrong.  I thought that I would find some kind of satisfaction, or relief if I could just do a little burning of Xander's flesh, or maybe some stringing of his entrails, but then nobody would and then when someone did, I didn't really want to.  And now, I don't have a human life, no one likes me anymore. I don't want to be a demon, there's no satisfaction there anymore, and I'm just…lost."  Anya's voice cracked a little on this last.

"I still like you Anyanka.  You're a very brave and smart being.  You did the right thing for the world yesterday by helping us.  And you did stay with me when I was incapacitated.  That was very sensitive, and appreciated."  

"Really?"  Anya looked at him hopefully.

"Really."  Giles tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and let his hand linger against her face, thumb caressing her cheek.

She instinctively turned her face into his hand accepting his caress, silently asking for more by closing her eyes and parting her lips. He looked at her soft, dewy features, took in the tilt of her head, the sweep of her lashes against her cheek, her swollen lips and bent…

Anya's eyes flew open and she demanded, "Tell me why you're here!"

Startled, Giles dropped his hand and sat back.  "I…I  came to check on the damage of the store."  He shook his head as if to clear it and mumbled, "At least I thought that's why I came…but now,"  he trailed off, looking at Anya's features, lost in thought.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"  Anya felt uneasy.  Not spooked or weird, but heated and anxious.

"Because I'm beginning to realize that _you_ are the reason I came here this morning."  Puzzlement crossed his strong features and was replaced by something akin to wonder.  "I haven't been able to get you out of my thoughts since I left." He reached out to her face once more, "Your unconscious gaffes, your unintended insults, your terrifying yet often witty reminiscences, the way your hair shines in the light, how you rub your hands together when you're nervous, " he reached down and took her wringing hands in his. "How your laughter comes at odd times, your gorgeous smile, the perfection of your body,"  his voice deepened and became softer, "and the one, amazing kiss we shared."

Tears welled in Anya's eyes once more.  Huskily she whispered, "Kiss me again?"

"Gladly."  

*************************************

Xander set down the polishing cloth and looked at his tool shelf.  It lay there, two-toned and sharp.  Waiting. 

He looked back at his work, it was her.  He'd invested the last 14 hours on this wood, etching, carving, worrying, chipping, sanding, caressing.  He had pulled her out of it.  Much like he felt he'd pulled Anya out of Anyanka.  He often felt as if he'd shaped her as much as she shaped him.  His every thought contained a piece of her in it.  

He reached up to the shelf and eased down the axe.  He tested its weight, measured its tempered sharpness, and then hefted it over his shoulder….


	2. Catharsis, 2

It was warmer than she remembered, and more tender this time.  His scent was rich and heady, masculine and clean, the smell of him made her skin tingle.  It was his touch that was passion this time.  Restrained and soft, tentative and exploratory….fingers brushing her cheek, trailing through her hair, brushing over her side…resting gently on the small of her back.  She moaned softly into his mouth and his tongue found passage and caressed her from the inside.

He was astonished by the feelings tearing through him.  He'd been so lost upon his return to England that he'd resigned emotion to the back of his mind, just to stay sane.  Then he'd become so involved in the endeavor to keep Willow from destroying the world that he hadn't had time to feel.  He'd forgotten what fire rushing through his veins felt like.  He'd erased the memory of the silken warmth of her skin.  He hadn't felt his groin tighten and pulse for what seemed like ages.  He fought to remain in control, measured, gentle.

Anya felt his reluctance, his restraint and would have none of it.  She knew Rupert was a passionate man.  He was the portrait of reserve, but she had tasted his tongue, she had felt his hands knead her neck and his arms press her close to his body, she had felt his passion and wanted it at the surface again.  She placed her hands in his hair and closed her fingers on the strands, pressing his mouth firmly against hers and opening herself up to his.  Her tongue darted in, seeking his and then exploring his smooth inner cheek, and back to stroke his tongue.  Her hands sought other refuge once he acquiesced to her mouth's demand.  She stroked down his broad back to the rise of his buttocks and ran her hands over the firm muscle she found there.

Giles groaned into Anya's mouth and literally crushed her to him, pressing as much of her as he could into his body.  He moved his hands to her waist and his thumbs found passage under her shirt, to her bare waist, caressing circles on her smooth skin. His hands slowly slid up her sides as their kiss became an entity of its own requiring neither thought nor direction.

*******************************************

Wiping his soaked brow Xander looked upon his wooden depiction of the woman he loved.  It was little more than kindling.  Small, quiet shards and splinters.  Lifeless, dull particles of pain.  

He silently set the axe next to the workbench, walked to the light bulb in the center of the garage and pulled the string.  He made it as far as the steps into the house before he collapsed and started to weep.

*****************************************

Anya suddenly pulled back from the searing and sensual kiss.  Wide-eyed with shock, she clutched Rupert's upper arms for support and whispered, "He's let me go.  He's….he's let me go." She began to shake and tears started coursing down her face again.

Not knowing exactly what, but feeling that _something_ profound had happened, Giles pulled Anya to him and gently cradled her in the ruins of the Magic Box.


End file.
